


Take What You Can Get

by miera



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:11:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War time doesn't make for long relationships, so people take what they can get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't handle Herc being all alone except for Max.

It's hot as hell and Herc can't sleep.

Insomnia is epidemic in the Shatterdomes. Nobody takes note of people wandering the halls or haunting the mess at all hours of the night. It's not like they don't all have reasons to be awake.

Herc's worried about his son, off at the Academy where his attitude is not winning him any friends, according to Pentecost's reports. Chuck is flying through his classes though. The boy inherited his mother's determination, that was certain.

He's worried about his brother. Scott's bullshit is getting out of hand, landing him in the news, although the reporters are so fucking starry-eyed about Jaeger pilots they're taking a "boys will be boys" approach. For now. He and Scott are fighting on a regular basis about his behavior, and he's got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about where this is headed. 

He's worried about his own encroaching age. There's an ache in his bones that didn't use to be there after a day of just training. Eventually he'll get too old for this. Piloting a Jaeger should be a young person's game, but successful pilots are too precious a commodity still. 

Mostly, tonight it's just too fucking hot to sleep. 

Shatterdomes are not built for luxury, but Sydney's climate is moderate enough that it normally doesn't matter. Currently, though, they're having a record heat wave, along with fires out to the west. Only a few areas of the building have air conditioning built in, and that's to protect the computers rather than the people. So he heads to the LOCCENT instead of the mess hall. 

It's hot in here too, though. The techs are stripped down to tank tops and there's a fan running in a corner, sweeping the room to try and help. Still, the humidity is lower.

The skeleton crew nods at him, going about their business like Jaeger pilots randomly wandering in at 2am isn't out of the ordinary. It may not be. Given the public attention on the pilots, it's something of a relief to be ignored. Herc has not embraced the celebrity status like his brother has, avoiding interviews and the limelight as much as he can.

Owens, the night time LOCCENT Chief, transferred from Anchorage a few weeks ago. She's apparently deep into whatever she's working on at one of the computer terminals and doesn't even acknowledge his presence, which amuses him. Technically he outranks everyone in the dome by sheer longevity, but they don't stand on military ceremony in the domes most of the time. Herc has met the woman a few times, has heard her voice over the radio while on a patrol, but he can't quite remember her first name. Lisa? Laura? 

As he's trying to remember he notices that she's humming something familiar. "Is that U2?" he blurts out, surprised.

Her head jerks up. "Sergeant, sorry, didn't see you there." He smothers a smile at the "sourry" - the Canadian accent stuck out even in a place like the dome where you could hear four different languages in one conversation. "Yeah, it's from Joshua Tree. My older sister was a big fan."

He grins. "One of the first CDs I ever bought."

She lights up like a Christmas tree. "Wait you remember CDs too?"

He chuckles and settles into an empty chair at the main desk, where the fan will at least pass over him occasionally. "I get the advantage of having all the music on a computer, but it’s just not the same."

She nods. "I miss owning a thing." She looks like she's about his age, which is a pleasant change from being surrounded by baby geniuses all the time. Of course, being a LOCCENT Chief, she probably was still a genius, with the diplomas to prove it. 

She rolls her chair back to the main desk and glances at him. "There's no current activity, if that's why you're here, sir." It had taken a while to sort out movement in the Breach from other forms of seismic activity in the Pacific but they finally had monitors in place. That meant fewer pointless patrols, but the downtime wasn't always good news. It had been a few weeks since the last attack and Herc wasn't the only one getting antsy. 

He shrugs. "Couldn't sleep. I was looking for some place to cool off." He glances at her clothes. Her blue shirt is hanging on the back of the chair, leaving her in just the black tank top. He can't help noting that her breasts are rather generous underneath it. Her skin is pale, not surprising for someone who'd been living in Alaska. The light reflects off her collarbone under the chain of her dog tags, her skin damp with perspiration, and his mouth goes a little dry with a sudden desire to taste. 

Shit. 

Owens doesn't note his little slip up. "Yeah, the A/C isn't used to keeping up with the computers and the weather. Rain's coming tomorrow, that should help."

They chat amiably for a little while about music and general dome gossip. She rattles off some long explanation of what she's doing with the computer systems that he doesn't follow, but he pretends like he's listening. Her voice is nice, soft and low, like a radio announcer. She scratches absently at an itch on her bare shoulder, leaving a red mark briefly on her skin, and he gets that surge in his belly again, which is kind of embarrassing given that he still can't remember her first name. 

"Well, I'll leave you to it," he says, getting out of the chair and trying to hide a wince as his back aches a little with the move. 

Owens glances up at him. He's kind of towering over her. "Sleep well, sir." 

He sighs. "It's nearly 3am, you can drop the sir, Owens. Or just call me Herc."

It's completely fucking transparent but it works. "Lydia." Pretty name. How did he forget that? She wags a finger at him before he can speak. "And no, I don't have any tattoos, so don't ask."

It takes him a minute, then he remembers the song. He grins. "You could always get one."

"Not my thing." Her eyes flick over him and a wicked little smile pulls at her lips and fuck, he's now the complete _opposite_ of cooled off. "Do you?"

"Maybe," he teases, leaning down a little toward her. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

He blinks, surprised at what just came out of his mouth, but it's too late to take it back. Then her cheeks turn pink and he doesn't really want to. Fortunately they're talking quietly enough the other people in the room don't appear to have heard, or are pretending they haven't. There's not much privacy in a Shatterdome but people try to pretend otherwise.

He escapes then, before he can really screw up. But his brain lingers on her the whole way back to his quarters, and then in his bunk before he gets up and takes a cold shower and finally falls asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

There's another attack, but it's not Sydney. The relief is short-lived, because the kaiju keep coming and coming sooner and getting stronger, smarter, harder to kill.

He trains, he studies, he fights with his brother, he worries about his son. Sometimes he sleeps.

When he can't sleep, he ends up in the LOCCENT, no matter where else in the dome he wanders first.

Lydia is working in those hours, so sometimes she's busy or distracted. Some nights she's swiveling back and forth in her chair, waiting while a program runs, and they talk about things they remember from before the war, or things they miss, although that stays on food and movies and superficial stuff. He knows she has a sister back in Toronto, that her parents are both gone (cancer) and that she volunteered for the PPDC right away, just like he had. He tells her about flying, argues with her about Vegemite and which of the Marvel superhero movies were the best. 

He starts smuggling muffins out of the mess to bring to her after she complains that she never gets to eat breakfast food because of her shifts. They’re not good muffins, but she beams at him when he brings the first one to her, so he keeps doing it.

He starts dreaming about her, dreams about her smiling at him like that while she’s naked in his bed, about her writhing against him while he fucks her senseless against a wall, about her bare skin against his back as they sleep. 

He's grateful for his ability to focus in a fight and not let his mind wander. The last thing he needs is Scott finding out about his interest and fucking it up.

There have been a few women over the years, pilot groupies who sought him out on the rare nights he left the Shatterdome and went to bars with the others, usually to celebrate after a victory. He doesn't feel guilty about those women; Angela's gone and he can't live in the past forever. But the sex was a release of physical tension, nothing more. He didn't feel anything, didn't use the phone numbers slipped into his pockets by some of them. Didn't even remember their names. 

He kept that separate from the dome and the people he works with every day for reasons he can't even explain to himself. Other pilots, his brother included, have no compunction about it, and so long as everyone was a consenting adult the brass doesn't seem to care. You can't coop so many people up under so much stress and not expect them to fuck like rabbits, probably. It's not like he hasn't gotten offers from plenty of women, and some men, within the PPDC before. He turned them down without much hesitation. Yet here he is, rabbiting after a woman he works with. 

Herc maybe got too used to thinking of himself as older and wiser. 

He flirts with her, somewhat surprised that he still knows how. Lydia flirts back, her voice pitched low so they won't be overheard. 

He thinks there are rumors about them anyway. 

She doesn't seek him out, though. The dome may be big but it's not infinite and their paths do cross periodically. But she has her friends and her routine and although she's friendly when they see each other outside of his visits to the LOCCENT, she never joins him in the mess hall or goes out of her way to see him. She'll email him things she thinks he'll find interesting, but sometimes he thinks he's wishing that she's flirting back and that maybe she's just humoring him. 

Maybe she doesn't want him, not like he's realizing he wants her. Maybe he should back off. 

Then he goes to the LOCCENT one night and finds Nguyen manning the desk. Herc's too proud to ask why and the taciturn man doesn't offer an explanation. Herc spends twenty minutes staring out the window at the floor of the dome before quietly leaving. He doesn't go to her quarters because that would be the act of a lovesick fool and he wants to hang on to some scrap of his dignity, but he does look at the duty rosters and sees that she's not on it for the entire week. 

There've been no transfer orders that he's aware of. She would have told him if she was leaving. At least he hopes she would have. He looks for the next few days and sees no sign of her in the dome. Maybe she went to visit her sister? He doesn't email her to ask but only because he has to have a video conference with Pentecost because Chuck broke the nose of one of the other cadets who happened to be some prime minister's nephew and not while they were in a training exercise.

The next Sunday night, damn his pride, he goes up to the LOCCENT without even going through the motions of trying to sleep.

Lydia is slumped in her chair, looking exhausted but alive and there and the relief that hits his chest chokes him for a moment. He has no idea how he got into this so deeply without really noticing, but there's nothing to do now but throw himself into his usual chair and try not to smile at her like she's the best thing he's seen in months. "Hey."

"Hey." She glances at the clock. "You're early."

He shrugs. "Thought I'd try to clear my head now instead of waiting until two in the fucking morning." Lydia nods, yawning and he can't help himself. "For someone who had leave last week you don't look rested."

"I wasn't on leave, I was writing code." She gestures to the bank of computers. "I was working on software patches for the LOCCENT's network. That's why I came here. I've been tracking the problems and bugs and then took a week and holed up in a lab and rewrote a bunch of code and tested it."

Herc suspects she's leaving out a lot of details because they'd go over his head, but he gets the gist. "So it's all good now?"

"So far. The real test will be what happens when we send the patches to the other domes. When I did this in Anchorage, only the LA and Lima domes worked." He must look confused, because she elaborated, "The domes were built locally. There wasn't one software installation common to them all, so each LOCCENT network has unique problems that someone has to fix. I was in LA before Anchorage, and I'm probably going to Manila or Hong Kong next."

He goes absolutely still. She's going to leave. Fucking hell, she's going to get transferred. 

He should've expected this. People get shuffled around the PPDC all the time. They have to move people where they're needed. 

He doesn't know how long he stays quiet but eventually he comes out of the daze and realizes she's looking at him, her expression softer than he can remember it ever being before. "It won't be for a while yet. I've got to get the bugs out here first and observe the results." 

She's not a pilot, so she only knows how the Drift works in the abstract, but he doesn't need a pons to hear the unspoken "I'm going to miss you." Not with the way she's looking at him.

He's got to make a move, before she leaves. Part of him knows it would probably be better to just let her go and not make things more complicated. But he could be dead tomorrow in a kaiju attack, and for that matter, so could she. He wants something good to remember before they have to go their separate ways.

He opens his mouth to say something, he's not even sure what, when alarms start blaring across the console. "Movement detected in the Breach," Lydia shouts, although everyone in the room probably knew what the alarms meant. There's no time now to talk about anything, because the kaiju is heading south, and he has to go get suited up.

_After_ , he tells himself, praying there will be one this time.

*~*~*~*~*

Lucky Seven lives up to her name. Herc and Scott survive and take down the kaiju, although not without some major damage to the city. 

There are still celebrations going on, although more muted than they used to be as the kaiju attacks have gotten more frequent. He and Scott have a serious scuffle as soon as they're out of their suits, and the only thing that keeps Herc from breaking hold of the guy restraining him is knowing the circuitry suit he's wearing could get damaged in the fighting.

Scott goes off to the city with a bunch of his buddies. Herc wonders sometimes what it's like to drift with someone and not want badly to be away from them the instant the drift is over. He showers in the hottest water available for a while before he feels clean. 

He eats a meal, endures the congratulations of everyone he encounters, and marks time on the clock until he heads to the LOCCENT very late in the night or early in the morning, depending on your point of view. Everyone needs to shake his hand except Lydia, who is watching him work through the crowd of techs with a grin on her face. 

He drops into his usual chair and pretends to glare at her. "What?"

She shakes her head, amused. "When you wander in here in the middle of the night, I kind of forget you're the big damn hero in real life." 

He rolls his eyes at the "Firefly" reference. "Just doin' my job, ma'am."

She sticks her tongue out, probably for the "ma'am" bit. Her expression softens and her voice drops lower, pitched for his ears only. "I'm glad you're okay."

His throat hurts and he has to look away. Everyone has been quick to congratulate him on the kill and the fight. No one aside from the doctors has asked if he's all right or said anything about his safety. 

The silence stretches for a second as he composes himself. Lydia switches back to a louder, more normal voice and smiles. "So, you didn't go out to hit the town with the others and let the locals swoon all over the big strong Jaeger pilots?" 

She bats her eyes, laughing, but Herc shakes his head, his eyes never leaving hers. His voice goes soft as he asks, "What time is your shift over?"

She stops laughing and he waits until the blush on her face tells him she's put two and two together. He already knows the answer; he's had the LOCCENT duty rosters memorized for a while, but it gave him the opening he wanted.

"Uh, about half an hour," she answers.

He leans forward, one elbow on his knee, ensuring this conversation really is just between them. "I've got a bottle of whiskey in my quarters. The good stuff."

He leaves it at that. She knows what he's offering - he fucking hopes she does - and she'll either show up or she won't. 

She swallows and then nods at him once. He nods back, caging the grin that wants to break out, and gets to his feet. It takes some significant self-control not to strut back to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

Her knock is less confident than he was hoping, but he lets her into his room quickly. She's still in her uniform, blue shirt and cargo pants and boots, her hair still up neatly at the back of her head. She looks nervous and as if she's trying to pretend she's not. 

He can understand that. He's relieved that she came but he's cautioning himself that agreeing to a drink isn't agreeing to jump into bed with him. 

Lydia's holding a metal tin in her hands. "I've been hoarding this for when I need it," she tells him. "I figured the occasion warranted it."

He opens the tin and the smell of chocolate hits his nose sharply. "Wow."

She grins. "It's the real thing, not that shitty wax stuff they keep trying to claim is chocolate. My sister sent it to me."

"Well, then, I'll trade you," he says, moving to the desk where he had the bottle of whiskey out along with two glasses. He pours a small amount into each glass and offers it to her. "Cheers."

They clink glasses and he throws his back. Lydia sips hers and then licks her lips. His eyes follow the gesture, his body reacting in spite of his resolve.

"Damn, that is good." She swallows the rest of it and puts her glass down. He pours himself another glass but she shakes her head when he offers her a refill. "I shouldn't. If I drink any more I'll go right to sleep."

"Well that would be counterproductive," he observes with studied casualness as he puts the bottle back down. Her eyes go wide and he figures it's now or never. He reaches out and puts a hand on her hip, his pulse picking up. "See, I have a plan." 

"Oh?" Her cheeks are turning pink but she's not moving away.

"Yeah. It involves us getting drunk," he explains, his other hand going to her other hip. He pulls her into his personal space and Lydia's hands rest against his chest. "And then me having my way with you for the rest of the night." 

A little smile crosses her face and her eyes close for a moment. When she looks up at him again, she slides her hands up his chest to wind around his neck. "You don't need to get me drunk for that," she tells him right before she kisses him.

It's awkward for a few seconds before they find the right angle and the right movements together, then the kisses start to blend into one another in a blur of hunger and relief. His tongue slips into her mouth, taking control of the kiss as his hands slide down and grope her ass. Her hips press against his and she can probably tell that he's getting hard already. 

In response, her fingernails scratch up the back of his neck and he shudders. He drags his mouth from hers and begins to kiss and lick his way down her neck until he can slide his tongue along the delicate skin over her collarbone, the way he imagined the first night they talked. She tastes of salt and the hint of metal from the chain of her dog tags.

Her shirt is in the way, though, and he tugs impatiently at the buttons. A quick glance at her face indicates she's not objecting, so after he pushes the shirt off her shoulders, he grabs the bottom of the tank top underneath and yanks it up and off her, Lydia lifting her arms to let him do it. Her hands land on his shoulders and her nails tease his skin, making him shiver. He goes back to mouthing at her neck while his hands cover her breasts through the practical sports bra she's wearing. She just fills his palms, firm and heavy and perfect. Her nipples are hard already and as he teases her with his thumbs they get even stiffer. 

Lydia whimpers, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, but he lingers long enough to suck a bruise into her skin, below her collarbone where it won't be visible. Then he steps back and strips the t-shirt off, grinning at the way she's staring at his body. He's got scars all over the place but he's in damn good shape for a man of his age and he enjoys the blatant ogling he's receiving after weeks of dancing around each other.

She must see the amusement in his face because she blushes again even as she reaches out to run her fingers down his chest and over his abdomen, stopping at the top of his pants. "I was afraid I was misinterpreting things," she admits as he pulls her back into his arms. 

"You weren't," he assures her. He kisses her temple, taking in the faint scent of her shampoo. "Wanted this for weeks, Lyds." He reaches up and begins to free her hair from the pins holding it up. It's soft and cool around his fingers and he kisses her again, trying to pace himself. He wants to tear the rest of her clothes off and just take her on the desk, but she deserves more than that. He settles for pulling her bra up and off and then bending down to take one of her breasts in his mouth. 

She arches against him. "Oh God, Herc." 

He chuckles. "That's the idea, sweetheart." She laughs and he switches to her other breast, changing the amusement into a moan. She wriggles around as he suckles, and when his teeth carefully bite at her nipple her fingers dig into his scalp, holding on tight. 

He lingers there, switching back and forth for a couple of minutes, making her more and more frantic. His erection is nearly painful inside his boxers. His fingers tickle her ribs and then begin to toy with the fastening of her pants. She touches his hand to stop him, but when he glances up she smiles. 

"We should get our boots off first." 

"Right." He lets her go reluctantly and sits down on the edge of his bunk and pulls the laces open. It's hard to concentrate with Lydia bending down in front of him, leaning against his desk and naked to the waist save for her tags. He watches her tits jiggle and bounce as she moves, wanting his mouth there again, preferably while she's riding him. 

She gets done first and walks toward him barefoot, swaying her hips with no sign of nervousness anymore. It's a good look on her. As soon as she's within reach he starts unfastening her pants. They're made to be loose, so he slips them off her legs easily and she kicks them away. He nuzzles her stomach and his hands explore her hips, her thighs and then one hand slides in between her legs. As soon as he touches her panties he can feel how damp they are.

"Wet for me already, baby?" he teases, rubbing his fingers against her through the fabric.

She retaliates by reaching down and palming him through his trousers. "You're not the only one who's been thinking about this for a while."

He groans, hips jerking into her touch. "Tell me?" he pleads, even as his eyes want to close with the way she's handling him. 

Lydia hesitates. He pushes his fingers against her harder and she lets out this little noise of pleasure. "You, uh, you would order everyone else out of the LOCCENT, except me. Tell me to stand up and strip out of my clothes. Mmph," she bites her lip for a moment as he nearly rips her panties off her and leaves them on the floor. 

When his fingers touch her slick heat they both groan and her grip on his dick falters. He finds her clit and begins to rub at her lightly, Lydia grasping at his shoulders to keep her balance. "Go on."

She gasps for air. "You would, ah, oh God, you'd tell me to turn around and bend over, that- that you were going to fuck me over my desk for as long as you wanted." 

Jesus Christ. He cups the back of her neck with his other hand and kisses her hard and messy for a long minute before he hastily pops open his fly and shoves his pants and his boxers off and kicks them away. He pulls her onto his lap, needing to be inside her as fast as possible.

Lydia is thankfully capable of one last rational thought. "You have protection, right?" she asks. 

He jerks his head at the nightstand and she grabs a condom from the drawer. He lets her roll it down onto him, her fingers caressing him thoroughly in the process. Once it's in place, though, he grabs her hips and positions her in his lap and she sinks down onto his cock without hesitation. She feels amazing, tight and so incredibly hot he nearly comes from that.

"Fuck," they say in unison. 

Both of them laugh, but he digs his fingers into her hips. "No, no, don't do that baby, or I'll be no good to you in a minute." 

She stops moving her hips. Instead she nibbles on his earlobe, which isn't precisely helpful, but it feels so good he doesn't bother trying to stop her. She licks her way down his neck and then along his jawline until she nips at his chin. "So fucking hot, Herc, that jawline of yours is a fucking work of art." 

Another breathless kiss and she starts to move. He holds on, guiding her hips until she's riding him steadily. It's so good, he wants to savor and enjoy and he also can't wait to see her coming for him, feel her tighten around his aching cock. His hips jerk up but just a little, like they can't make up their mind either.

Lydia gets impatient and begins to reach down to touch herself but he pushes her hand away and growls, "Mine." He's damned if he's not going to make her come himself, especially not this first time. He teases her clit and she cries out, moving faster in his lap. 

Somehow she still has the self-possession to ask, "What about yours?" All he can do is make a confused noise and she adds, "You thought about it too?"

He nods, his free hand cupping her breast. "Thought about _this_. You naked and riding my cock, your tits right in my face." He leans forward and suckles on her nipple and she tightens around his dick. He can't hold on much longer and he starts thrusting up into her faster. "Fuck, Lyds, so hot. Come on baby, come for me."

She meets his movements, grabbing his hand to increase the pressure on her clit. He complies, rubbing her hard and fast and her fingers dig into his shoulders as he feels her tighten rhythmically around him several times before the orgasm hits her. Her head falls back and her whole body jerks and he can't stand it. He pins her hips down, grinding up against her a couple of times. He comes so hard he can't breathe.

Lydia collapses into his arms, her face pressed against his neck. He leans into her, his hands stroking up and down her bare skin lightly. 

They sit there for a while, not moving, until Lydia finally stretches enough to make him hiss. "God," she mumbles, sitting up straight. "That was amazing." She kisses him deeply and his hands fondle her ass. He feels her muscles twitch around his dick.

He breaks the kiss. "You're still turned on, aren't you?" he asks, amused.

She rolls her eyes, a gesture which has always annoyed him, but her words alleviate his irritation. "I've got the sexiest man in the entire Jaeger program naked and inside of me, of course I'm still turned on."

His ears actually go hot. He wishes he was a few years younger, since his recovery time is not what it used to be. But then, he knows plenty of ways to pass the time. He slaps her ass sharply. "Fine, get on your back and spread your legs for me." She shoots him a look - either for the order or the slap, he can't tell - but complies. He disposes of the condom and pushes her into the position he wants, so he can get his shoulders between her legs. 

"Oh fuck yes, Herc, please," she mumbles, tilting her hips up to offer herself to his mouth. 

He chuckles, rubbing his rough cheek against the tender skin inside her thigh. "You are a dirty little slut, aren't you?" His thumbs run over her flesh, massaging gently. 

Lydia shakes her head. "Not usually," she admits, embarrassed. "It's you. I've been imagining all kinds of kinky shit about you since I got here." 

He grins. "I look forward to hearing the details. But right now I'm going to eat your pussy until you're ready to scream my name so loud the whole fucking dome will hear you." 

She just whimpers and he bends his head down. Usually he would take this slow and build her up but Lydia's already aroused and wet and clearly on board with this, so instead he pushes his tongue inside of her without hesitation. She tastes good and feeling her contract around his tongue makes his dick twitch. It's been a long while since he did this for anyone, but he's always loved it. Making a woman come undone with his mouth, the smell and the taste and the soft press of warm thighs against his head, there are few finer pleasures in a man's life.

She yelps in surprise but she can hardly hide her reaction from him right now. He fucks her slowly with his tongue for a bit and then moves up, licking at her clit quickly until he finds the right spot. She bucks up and he grabs her hips and pins her to the bed, pressing so tightly that he'll leave bruises. The thought gets him hard again. He licks and licks, keeping her trapped, making her wait. She's babbling out a stream of incoherent words, with his name, God, fuck and please mixed in. 

He lifts his mouth away, earning a sharp whine of protest from her. His voice is rough but he manages to tease her, "I didn't quite catch that, sweetheart."

Her fingernails dig into his scalp. "I'm so fucking close if you don't make me come I'm going to kill you right the hell now," she grits out. 

He chuckles and slides two of his fingers into her pussy, which is soaking wet. He curls his fingers up. "I was raised never to disappoint a lady."

"I'm no fucking lady- oh holy fuck, yes, yes, God, Herc, oh fuck..." He goes back to her clit, swirling his tongue as his fingers pump in and out of her while she talks and he listens gleefully as she curses and does indeed call out his name as he makes her come so hard his fingers and his chin are almost dripping wet.

"Christ," he mutters. He pushes himself away, wiping his mouth on his arm. Lydia's a sweaty mess on his bunk, her hair tangled, her face and her chest flushed, the bite he gave her earlier dark against her pale skin near the shoulder. He can see the marks from his fingers already, along with a faint red scratch of beard burn along her thighs. 

She pries her eyes open. "Hmm?"

His fingertips ghost along the inside of her thighs. Tomorrow she's going to go through her whole day with marks on her body from him. Every time she moves she'll be reminded of him. Something in his chest swells at the idea of her marked as his even if nobody else will see it. 

He settles above her, kissing her hard and deep. Some women don't like tasting themselves but Lydia apparently doesn't mind, because she wraps her arms around him and lets him have her mouth. Her fingers stroke down his back, cupping his ass and kneading before she starts exploring his chest, his stomach and finally takes his erection in her hand and strokes him slowly. She plays along the length, teasing the underside of the head of his cock with her thumb. He closes his eyes, enjoying the attention. It's been a long time since anyone but him had a hand on his dick, and this woman is no shy virgin, clearly. She knows what she likes and how to get him wound up too, which she demonstrates by reaching up and fingering his balls gently with her other hand, making his whole body tense. 

"Oh fuck, Lyds, stop, baby, stop," he pushes her hand away. "Want to come inside of you again, not like this." 

Her legs wrap around him in silent agreement and he plucks another condom from the nightstand and gets it on. He settles into the cradle of her hips and her fingernails rake through his hair. "I may be done for now," Lydia warns him. 

"Really?"

She grins at him, "You're too fucking good with your mouth, Hercules." He laughs. Very few people ever use his full name but right now it just turns him on more. She urges him to thrust into her. "But you can fuck me as hard as you want after that."

It's impossible to ignore that invitation, but a part of him doesn't like the thought of her not coming this time. He works to find a rhythm that makes her gasp and then brushes his fingertip over her clit, so lightly he's barely touching her. Her pussy tightens around him and he resists the urge to go harder and faster, watching Lydia throw her head back on the pillows. Her body begins to strain toward him and her legs hitch up around his hips. He keeps teasing her, ignoring the tightness in his balls and how badly he wants to come until she is nearly thrashing underneath him.

"Herc, Jesus, please," she mumbles.

"Please what? I thought you couldn't come again?" he shoots back.

Her eyes snap open. "You bastard," she laughs. "Come on."

"Nope." Her eyes widen. "You don't get to come until I've decided you've had enough, Owens." 

"Herc." She's whining now.

"Not. Yet." She clenches around his dick. Lydia apparently has a bit of a kink for being ordered around, which is good because he's a total alpha in bed. He lifts her knee, hooking it up over his elbow and she keens in her throat as it changes the angle and lets him go deeper. "There. You tell me you can't come again, but what you really needed was a good deep dicking from someone who knows how to fuck you." Lydia also clearly gets off on him talking dirty given how she moans, so he keeps going. "Now. I want you to listen to me, Lydia. I know you're close. You're right on the fucking edge. Aren't you? Answer me."

"Yes."

"Yes what?" He's sweating like crazy and his own body is screaming for release, but this is hotter than any fantasy he's had about her and he wants to play it out all the way.

"I'm so close," she whimpers. "I'm going to come."

"You're going to come, when I tell you to. You're going to come so fucking hard, Lyds. I can hear how wet your pussy is around my cock. Can you hear it?" She nods. Her nails dig into his flesh, scratching his back as she instinctively tries thrust up and reach the orgasm that's so close. "You're going to come so hard I'm going to need to change the sheets because you're making such a fucking mess. Because you love having my cock in your pussy, almost as much as you loved having my tongue there." Her body tightens so much around him at that, he knows she's going to lose it any second. "Come now, baby. Come for me. Right fucking now."

She covers her mouth with her hand, muffling the scream that nearly escapes as she clenches so hard around his cock he's a little afraid to keep moving. It goes on for what feels like forever until her muscles relax a bit. There are tremors going through her still and he plants one hand, grasps her hip with the other and pounds into her, hard and fast and deep for a long minute as he gives his body permission to let go and he explodes. He imagines coming inside of her without the condom, filling that hot, tight pussy of hers with his come and his brain whites out. 

It feels like hours go by before he can get his limbs to work. He's collapsed on top of her, one arm holding some of his weight off her body. Lydia is still trembling underneath him as he pulls out and tosses the condom. He's a bit worried he pushed her too far, but when he stretches out on the bed she cuddles against him, her eyes still closed. He pulls the sheet up over them as he starts to cool off. Her breathing slows down and eventually she nuzzles her face against his chest and opens her eyes. 

"Hey," he says, inanely.

"Hey yourself," she replies, her voice rough in a way that would get him hot if his body was capable of it. As it is, it's going to take a good six hours of sleep and probably a full meal before he can work up the energy to even take a piss. 

He slides his fingers through her sweaty hair. "You ok?"

"Mmm-hmm." She closes her eyes. "Can't get up yet, though." 

"Good," he tells her, before she can get any ideas about sneaking out of his room to go back to her own quarters. "You're not going anywhere." He wants to fall asleep with her here. The bed smells like them, and he wants to wake up with her soft skin under his hands and against his mouth. He brushes his lips against her forehead. "Sleep, baby. I've got you." 

She sighs and curls into him and drifts off almost immediately. He settles his arm around her waist and follows.


	3. Chapter 3

Both of them complain when the alarm goes off a few hours later. Herc slaps the clock off, trying not to wake Lydia completely. "Go back to sleep," he tells her, slipping out of the bed.

Jaeger pilots get the luxury of private showers in their quarters. He washes and dries himself off hastily. He gets dressed, staring at her the whole time. She's still naked, curled up in his bed, one shoulder bare from where the sheet has slipped down. He wants so badly to crawl back in there with her, sleep for a few more hours and then wake her up with his fingers in between her legs, making her come hard and fast before he fucks her again, maybe from behind this time. But he's got just enough time to grab coffee and eat something while he walks to the debriefing. He sighs and sits down to pull his boots on.

Her hand touches his back. "Time is it?" she mumbles. It's the middle of the night for her sleep schedule, he knows.

"Early, for you," he says, turning around. He brushes her hair back from her face and kisses her temple. "I reset the alarm. You can sleep a few more hours, then use the shower if you want." He likes the idea of her sleeping in his bed even if he won't be here to enjoy it. "I'll see you later?"

They didn't talk at all about where this is going or whether there will be a repeat of last night. He desperately wants one. There are a bunch of things they didn't get to try out yet, and knowing she's going to leave makes him want to milk every chance they get, but Lydia may not want more complications than they've already created. 

Lydia nods, nearly asleep again, and he leaves the room and heads to his meetings. It's not all that early in the morning. The higher-ups learned that the day after an attack, the pilots and crews would not be at their best first thing. Herc grabs his coffee and something that vaguely resembles a danish and focuses on the debriefing. He only got a few hours of sleep, and he's still more functional than Scott who doesn't seem to have ever gone to bed. 

It's not until lunch that people have recovered enough from their hangovers to start gossiping, so by dinner, he can feel a lot of glances being sent his way as he gets his food. His whole body is aware that Lydia is sitting with her friends and he studies his plate like he's trying to solve the war on his own for a minute as memories flood him. For her part, Lydia nods and smiles at him but makes no move to change their usual habit of not eating together and he merely returns the nod and goes to his usual table.

Rojas sits down across from him a minute later. She's one of Lucky Seven's techs and Herc has learned some new Spanish curses from her over the last couple of years. In her late 20s, she's got a gift for machinery the PPDC had needed for Jaeger techs. She also had made a pass at him at one point that he had turned down (politely, because he tries not to be an asshole especially to the people responsible for keeping him alive). She's more or less living with Parminter at this point so he doubts she's got any jealous motives when she asks bluntly, "So, you and Owens, huh?"

He raises his eyebrows, keeping his face neutral. He's not going to deny it, but he has no interest in helping the gossip mill along either. No regs got broken, nobody was coerced or cheated on and nobody missed work today, so he has nothing to apologize for.

Rojas grins. "I'd heard rumors. Lot of people are curious, _huevón_. You could have most of the women and many of the men here, and you always say no. Now you say yes, people are going to wonder." 

"Doesn't mean I owe them an answer," he points out calmly, not adding that he initiated things, not Lydia.

Rojas nods agreeably. "No, you can tell them to fuck themselves." They eat in silence for a minute and her expression shifts. "You know she's leaving, _sí_?"

He sighs. "Yeah." He hates thinking about it.

Rojas meets his eyes. "If that _cuaima_ fucks with you, you know we got your back." Herc can guess the meaning of the Spanish word even without knowing for sure what it is. The context is clear.

He hadn't thought of this before and he feels like an idiot. Half the dome is probably thinking Lydia is fucking him for the thrill of shagging a Jaeger pilot before she leaves, and the crews are protective not just of the Jaegers but also their pilots. They're a team. It's necessary, but he doesn't want Lydia getting mistreated because of that bond. "We're good, but thanks," he tells Rojas.

He finishes his meal and notes that Lydia is preparing to leave. He makes a snap decision and gets up from the table, crossing the room to her. "Can I walk with you?" he asks lowly. She nods and he puts a hand on the small of her back as they exit the room, for the benefit of all the people watching their every move.

He reluctantly removes his hand once they're in the hallway. "So, that didn't take long to get out, huh?" she asks, grumpily.

"Not surprising, though."

"What was that little possessive display back there about?" 

He rubs the back of his head with one hand, sheepish about his sudden desire to protect her. "I don't want them getting the wrong idea about you. That you're just some star fucker looking for status."

She looks up at him for a long minute, and his chest warms up at the emotion on her face. This is doomed, he knows it, but for right now he feels as close to happy as he's probably ever going to get again.

She starts walking toward the LOCCENT and he falls into step beside her. Lydia nudges him with her shoulder, "If I was aiming for status, I'd have gone for the Beckets. They're really hot."

"Fucking Yankee punks," he mutters, although he knows the brothers are good pilots and Gipsy Danger, their Jaeger, is a hell of a machine. Lydia knew them from her time in Anchorage. He knows she's just teasing him but he feels a tiny hint of jealousy anyway. The only pilot he wants her fucking is him, for as long as he gets to have her. 

They're nearly at the LOCCENT so he drops his voice. "I want to see you again." 

She pauses at the door. "I have a report to write tonight after my shift, and I really need some sleep," she says apologetically. Before he can get depressed she adds, "Tomorrow?"

He nods. "Tomorrow."

*~*~*~*~*

Tomorrow turns into two days later, because the next afternoon he and Scott have to link up with Lucky Seven for testing while the Jaeger is being repaired. Herc does everything he can think of to stay calm but there's no controlling the drift entirely. He can feel Scott smirking with anticipation after a few brief flashes of Lydia in his bed make it into their connection. His brother is an asshole and the prospect of Scott turning his malignant desires on Lydia makes Herc nauseous.

When they're done, Herc and Scott are in the prep area next to the connpod, being helped out of their suits. When they're back in their own clothes, Herc growls, "I need everyone to clear the room for a minute. My brother and I need to talk."

Most of the time he acts like another cog in the wheel of the program, but he's been with the PPDC from the beginning. He's not the base commander, but he is the most senior pilot in the Jaeger program, so after a moment of confused silence, the techs file out and shut the door behind them without any questions. 

Scott is looking at him in irritation. "What the fuck, Herc? If this is about your little groupie, save it. I'm not interested in some tubby old slag-"

He grabs Scott and slams him into the wall. They've had plenty of scraps over the years, always initiated by Scott, but Herc hits first this time. Scott may be younger but Herc is stronger and smarter. 

"You listen to me, you pathetic little shit," he snarls. "Lydia is my friend, and she's a colleague. You say one word to her, make one move toward her at all, I will burn you. I will get you thrown out of the program if you even think about going near her."

"I go, you go," Scott spits at him. 

"I'll live," Herc replies, his voice calm. 

Scott stares and it seems to penetrate his thick skull that Herc's not kidding. He'd sacrifice his own place as Lucky Seven's pilot if he had to, in order to protect Lydia.

There's a stand-off for a minute and Scott finally capitulates. "Fine." 

Herc lets him go. Scott won't meet his eyes, so he goes to the door, lets the crew back in. Everyone resumes their work, voices hushed and the tension still radiating through the room. 

Herc's almost relieved that he will not see Lydia that night in private. He needs some time and distance to calm himself down. He swings by the LOCCENT out of habit. If she's heard about his confrontation with his brother, she never asks. They talk quietly, just like always, except it's completely different now, knowing what she looks like naked, how her face goes pink and slackens when he makes her come, how her skin feels even better than he had dreamed when its pressed against his. He only makes himself leave because she has work and he's exhausted, but he spends a good while reliving the previous night and planning for the next before he finally falls asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Years in the military have trained him to be able to sleep when he can, so when Lydia turns up after her shift the next night, he's gotten a few hours of rest and is fully awake to greet her. After a few enthusiastic kisses, he sets her away from him. "There's something I think we need to talk about, Owens." 

Her face falls, looking worried and he smiles, trying to reassure her, even as he says, "You stand like that when being addressed by a superior officer?" 

Hesitantly, she puts her hands behind her back in a simulation of parade rest and straightens her back as she realizes what he's doing. "Sir?"

"That's better. We need to discuss your infraction the other day. Do you know what I'm referring to?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid I don't."

His lips twitch. "Your profession of lust for the Beckets, Chief. I can't have one of my officers having dirty thoughts about a couple of bloody Yankee upstarts." 

Lydia's having trouble not laughing herself. It's a silly excuse, but she goes with it anyway. "I understand, sir." 

"I'd hate to have a formal report put on your spotless record, Owens." His gaze flicks over her body slowly, the mood shifting from amusement to lust as he starts to get hard in anticipation. "But if you're willing to accept some disciplinary action in private, I think we can avoid that." 

She swallows, a tremor going through her body, but she meets his eyes. "What do I need to do, sir?"

He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. "Strip. Down to your tags." 

She complies immediately. Her movements are swift and sure, which makes it that much hotter, like she really is following his orders. She had taken the time to change into sneakers from her boots before coming, so she toes those off. Then she unbuttons her shirt and removes it and the tank top, placing them on the chair before unfastening her pants and with one quick shake of her hips getting those off too.

She gets down to her bra and panties and he chokes out, "Stop." 

She goes still, a grin lurking around her mouth. He steps closer, eyeing the fancy blue lace encasing her breasts. The bra and the matching lace panties make his mouth water and he nearly breaks the game as he stares before he finally finds his voice again. "These aren't standard issue, Owens."

"No, sir. They were a... surprise for someone."

He grins, pleased that she would dress herself up for him like this. He reaches out and presses his fingers against the soft lace covering her breast. Her eyes close as he pinches her nipple. "Lucky for me, then, I get the pleasure of seeing this instead." 

Her head drops back as he plays with her other nipple, the lace of the bra scratching against her skin. His voice drops to a growl. "Dirty little slut you are, standing here bold as brass in my quarters in your underwear, letting a superior officer play with your tits." 

She shoots him a look, although her voice has gotten higher and a bit breathless. "I thought I was supposed to be demonstrating that I could obey orders, sir?"

He chuckles, because she has a point. "Very well. Take this off," he snaps her bra quickly against her back. She complies and then he gets to the point of the whole fantasy. "Bend over the desk, Owens."

He hears the little gulping moan she makes as she does what he instructs. Her hands lay flat against his desk and he enjoys the view of her breasts hanging loose, with her dog tags dangling over the surface of the desk. Her ass is big and curvy and he runs his hands over it as he steps up behind her. He uses his knee to nudge her legs further apart. He pulls his shirt up and off, leaving his dog tags in place. When he leans over her, they trail against her skin, drawing a shiver from her. He wonders if that had been part of her fantasies or not.

Lydia doesn't turn around but she breathes in quickly when she hears his zipper go. He lets his pants and boxers puddle on the floor, then takes hold of his cock and presses it against the wet lace between her legs. She wriggles, trying to push her hips down. "Now, Owens, I'm going to take your panties off, and then I'm going to fuck you right here over the desk until I think you've had enough. Is that clear?"

Her voice shakes. "Yes, sir." 

He strips her underwear off, the smell of her arousal hitting his nose. The lace is nearly soaked. He quickly rolls a condom into place and then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her. He goes in deep right away, knowing she's more than ready for him. Her head falls forward and she whimpers and her pussy flutters around him. He smirks. "God damn, Owens, you're almost ready to come aren't you?"

"Yes, yes sir."

He reaches down and grabs her hair, pulling her head up but not too hard, mouthing at her shoulder and the back of her neck. "What are you waiting for, Owens? Beg me."

"Please fuck me sir," she blurts out immediately. "Please, I'm so wet, I need to come so badly, please-" the rest is cut off when she bites her lips to hold back a scream, because he starts pumping in and out of her hard and fast. Her tits are bouncing and her hips are shoving back against him, meeting every move. Almost as soon as his fingers touch her clit she comes, clenching around him, curses pouring out of her mouth, and it is only pure shock at how fast it happened that keeps him from doing the same. 

He slows down a little, letting her breathe, enjoying the tremors and twitches that go through her body as he fucks her through it. He lets go of her hair and slides his hands along her back, massaging her ass and then reaching around to grope her breasts. He flicks her nipples and she wiggles underneath him, so he plays, pinching and teasing as she gets aroused and tight again quickly. 

When he lets go she whines, "Herc, please."

"Chief, I told you I was going to fuck you until I'm ready to stop," he cuts her off, reminding her of the game.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." She's not, though. She bends down further, dropping onto her elbows and moving her hips back against him more forcefully. The glance he gets over her shoulder tells him she knows exactly what seeing her in that position is doing to him. 

In retaliation, he pulls his hand back. "I think maybe you need more punishment than I thought." Then he spanks her ass, just once. It's hard enough to turn her skin pink but not nearly as hard as he could have gone, since he's not sure how she'll react to that.

She jolts, bracing her hands abruptly. He kneads her flesh, soothing the sting. "Do you agree, Owens?" He won't do it again if she gives him a negative, since this is supposed to be about her fantasy. 

"Maybe one more for good measure, sir," she tells him, grinning a little.

He slaps her other cheek, a little harder, then brings both of his hands to her butt and massages, rocking into her steadily. "There. You should see yourself, Owens, bent over with your pretty ass all bright pink from my hands." His thumbs tease down the cleft of her ass and he can feel how her whole body reacts. "Oh you like that too, don't you? Filthy girl." He licks his index finger and slides it in between her cheeks, brushing against her asshole. 

"Oh fuck," she mumbles, but her body tenses up and not in a good way. "Herc, I can't-"

He stills his exploration immediately, breaking character. "What is it, Lyds?"

"Just fingers, you know, _there_ okay?" 

"Okay," he promises. She relaxes and he goes back to teasing her ass with one finger while he slides his other hand around and begins to play with her clit again. "Better?" It's a rhetorical question, since he feels her grip his cock and shudder as he starts to work her up again.

"Oh Christ, yes," she keens, rolling her hips, trying to tilt herself and push back and get more of him all at the same time. The room is full of the sound of flesh smacking against flesh and the little grunts he's letting out as he bottoms out inside of her each time. He closes his eyes and tries to fix this all in his mind, the sounds, the smells, the sight of Lydia bent over his desk for him. It may have been her fantasy but he's getting a hell of a rush out of it too.

He's been saving one last thing and he decides, given how hard he is, it's time. "Look to your left, Owens." There's a mirror on the wall. He knows from looking earlier Lydia can see her upper body from where she's leaning over the desk. "I want you to watch yourself now, as I fuck you good and hard. Watch your tits bounce, watch as you come and that sweet, soaking little pussy of yours drips all over my desk." 

Lydia's gone by this time, staring slack-jawed at the mirror and tightening around him over and over. Her hands clench into fists against the surface of the desk and he presses his fingers against her ass and her clit as he fucks her hard and the pressure becomes enough that she shatters. He keeps at her until she starts to sag into the desk and then he grips her hips and pounds into her, coming hard in just a few seconds himself. 

He grabs the desk to steady himself. Lydia doesn't move, collapsed on the desk, except to whimper when he pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom and cleans them both off, kicking his legs free of his pants. He runs his hands over her back gently now, gathering her hair to one side so he can nuzzle the back of her neck. He kisses her shoulder and she attempts to push herself up and falls back down on the desk.

"Oh God," she mutters. "Permission to pass out, sir? I don't think I can stand up."

He laughs and reaches down, scooping her up into his arms. She yelps, clinging to his neck, even though it's barely four steps to his bunk. He lays her on the bed and Lydia pulls him down with her and kisses him. It's odd that they just fucked for all that time without kissing, and he sinks into her mouth, enjoying it as they trade slow kisses back and forth for a long while. Eventually he comes up for air. "So, good?"

"Very," she agrees enthusiastically. She nibbles on his jaw. "Wasn't expecting that, but it was worth it." 

"I seem to remember a promise that you were going to tell me all your other kinky fantasies about me, you know."

She smiles at him, her expression promising a lot of things. "Right. Although a few of them I may keep and just demonstrate later." 

"I have no objections," he tells her.


	4. Chapter 4

It's half an hour before Lydia's shift is supposed to start, so he's confused when she appears at his door that night. "Permission to enter, sir?" she asks cheekily.

He steps back and lets her in, shutting the door behind her. She stands in front of him, her hands behind her back. He's not exactly sure what's happening here, but he goes with it. "What can I do for you, Owens?"

"Well, sir, I was thinking about the... disciplinary action you took earlier," she begins. Her voice is calm but her cheeks turn bright pink. He's been thinking about it nonstop all day. He's just glad he's not the only one.

He smirks, folding his arms across his chest. "Good. I trust the lesson sank in?"

"Yes, sir. In fact, I think I have an idea about how to demonstrate my desire not to fail again."

His cock has come to full attention in his pants, because the look on her face is absolutely wicked. Whatever she has planned, he's going to enjoy it, so he nods. "By all means, Chief, continue."

She steps forward suddenly, backing him up against the door so fast he hits it with a thump. Her hands yank open his fly and then she's pushing his pants and his boxers down his legs and kneeling in front of him. 

Oh God. 

He gets even harder as she strokes him a few times. She's not gentle, which he likes. She looks up and meets his eyes just as her tongue flicks out over the slit. He gulps down air, watching avidly as she takes just the head of his cock into her mouth. Her hand is sliding slowly up and down his shaft, keeping him steady as she takes slightly more of his dick in each time she goes down. 

Herc groans once she has all of him she can handle in her mouth. The sight of his cock disappearing between her lips is even hotter than it has been in his fantasies. Her mouth is amazing, her tongue doing things as she moves along his length that are driving him crazy. She sucks him so goddamned slowly he grabs hold of her hair, to hell with messing it up before her shift, just barely resisting the urge to fuck her mouth. Her smug expression tells him she knows exactly what he wants to do to her right now. 

She just gets a rhythm going, building him up, then she pulls off with a small pop and glances up at him, grinning. "Permission to suck your balls, sir?"

He's too far gone to keep up the game, but she takes his strangled moan as a yes, holding his cock up out of the way to delicately suck his balls, one after the other. Heat shoots up and down his spine and his free hand flails out, grasping the doorknob to keep himself upright. She takes his cock back in her mouth, sucking harder and faster now, her head bobbing while her finger continues to play with his sack. He tightens, the pressure rising uncontrollably and he mumbles out an incoherent warning before he comes.

She swallows most of it, but a trickle of his come leaks down the side of her mouth. Her hair's a mess and her eyes are glittering with satisfaction as she wipes her face and looks up at him. He feels completely wrecked, panting and unable to get his rubbery legs to push him up off the door yet. 

Lydia gets up and he hears the annoyed noise she makes as she sees the state of her hair. She disappears into his bathroom, coming out with her appearance mended and her face now scrubbed clean. 

Instead of getting out of her way, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her. She's going to spend her shift with his taste in her mouth and he really hates their fucked up schedules right now. "You are a fucking miracle, you know that?" he tells her.

She laughs. "I need to go, babe. I'll be late."

He nods and steps aside. "I'll see you after?"

"I don't want to wake you," she says, hesitating, but he shakes his head. 

"I don't give a shit. I want you here, even if it's just to sleep." 

She touches his cheek gently and he knows he's in for a world of hurt when the moment comes that she has to leave. And he knows that day is coming soon. But he can't turn her away.

*~*~*~*~*

The next couple of weeks are a blur. He works, he trains, he endures a sullen silence with his brother, and he and Lydia fall into bed together at nearly every opportunity. Only once does she try to cancel plans they had made when she starts not feeling well during her shift in the LOCCENT. Herc brings her to his room anyway, since it's more private than her shared guest quarters, and he convinces her to lie down. He rubs his fingertips in light circles against her scalp until she falls asleep. He used to do that for Angela, when she had a migraine. 

Lying there listening to Lydia breathing quietly, he entertains the idea of pulling some strings and preventing her transfer. He could call some people - Pentecost might be able to help - get Lydia assigned permanently to Sydney. A small, lonely part of him wants to claim this. After everything he's done to save the world from monsters, shouldn't he be allowed to do one foolish, selfish thing? This little bit of comfort he's managed to find with this woman, is that really too much to ask?

He won't do it. When morning comes rational thought will return and he knows Lydia would hate him for keeping her from doing her part in the war if he tried to interfere like that. But he lets himself imagine it for a little while.

The next day Lydia gets notified of her transfer to Manila. She leaves in a week. 

It's much too late to put the genie back in the bottle now, so they fuck relentlessly for much of that week, using almost every available space in his quarters, though she draws the line at having sex on the floor at their age when there's a bed available. He ties her to the bed and kisses every inch of her body, then eats her out until she's got tears on her face from coming so hard. Lydia fucks him with a dildo one night after he confesses that he's never trusted anyone enough to try it before. It feels strange and incredible and he shakes like a leaf when he comes, but he still manages to get hard again when he watches Lydia fuck herself with the same toy (and a fresh condom) in front of him. He pulls her on top of him and watches as she rides him to her second and then third orgasms of the night before he can't hold on any longer. 

Despite all the extra activity, neither of them is sleeping. He lies awake, holding her, knowing from her breathing that she's not asleep either. But there's nothing to say. 

The night before she leaves there's a small party thrown by the other LOCCENT techs for her. Herc attends the party, almost as if they're on a date, which is too screwed up to dwell on. The entire dome knows about them by this point, and everyone seems to get it when he slips his fingers in between hers and suggests quietly that they should go because her flight leaves early. Her packed bags are on the floor of his quarters, ready for the morning. 

There are no fantasies that night, no games, no toys. He loses himself in her body one last time, touching, tasting and trying to memorize her while he pleasures her slowly and she grasps at his skin, doing the same thing. The last few hours before dawn he lies there, Lydia naked and pressed against his body and also awake, until the alarm goes off. 

She gets up and showers and dresses quickly. It hurts beyond words already, but he goes with her to the mess. Neither of them can eat, so it's just coffee and silence. He carries her bag to the landing pad where the helicopter is waiting to take her and a few others to the airfield. The sun is just coming up, and he knows he's never going to forget her face in this light, not for as long as he lives. 

They stare at each other for a minute, but he can't think of what in hell to say to her. Lydia reaches up and frames his face in her hands and kisses him gently before she lets go. "Lyds." 

"I know," she tells him.

Then she's gone.

He stands on the pad, watching the sun rise over the city, not moving, for a long, long time.

 

*~*~*~*~*

He works, he trains, he worries about Chuck and Scott, he misses Lydia like crazy, but the days pass. There's nothing else he can do.

The kaiju attacks continue. The UN is beginning to talk about building a wall around the Pacific Ocean. It sounds insane - the coastline is enormous and the kaiju keep getting larger. Eventually one would be large enough to demolish the wall. Nobody knows why this suggestion is suddenly being made, but the PPDC soldiers on.

Then Herc and Scott get called to an emergency. The first category 4 kaiju is rampaging through Papua New Guinea and headed north. Lucky Seven, Gipsy Danger and Horizon Brave are sent to stop it.

Horizon Brave is an old Jaeger but she fights like fury until her last moments. Gipsy Danger is the newest of them and the Beckets manage to kill the kaiju, but not fast enough to save Lo and Shen, Horizon's pilots. Lucky Seven took a hell of a beating and Scott's leg is messed up from the damage, but they take the kaiju out. 

Herc gets through the medical check and the debriefing by force of will. There's really only one thing he can think about, to the point where he's getting dirty looks from Scott who is clearly picking stuff up post-Drift. 

The other pilots are headed into the city. People take their celebrations where they can get them, and though they lost two good pilots today, Manila was saved. 

The Becket brothers try to convince Herc to go with them, but he makes excuses about his old age and not wanting to slow them down. The older of the Beckets gives him a look like he's not buying it, but they depart with Scott and the others and Herc is finally free to go where he's wanted to go since he heard they were coming to Manila.

Lydia's room isn't far from his, since she's in guest quarters too. She answers on his first knock and they're kissing before the door is even closed behind him, to hell with who might see it. He grabs the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her skin to hold her flush against him. Instead of fighting him, her body relaxes into his hold. That acceptance drives him beyond rational thought and he turns and slams her against the door, ravaging her mouth while she whimpers and grabs onto him so tightly he'll have fresh bruises from her fingers on his ribs.

She's barefoot already. He strips her sweats and panties off of her and takes just long enough to undo his fly and shove his trousers and underwear down. As soon as the condom is in place he lifts her up and they fuck right there against the door like a couple of horny kids. Lydia kisses him fiercely, holding his face against hers so he can't pull away. He wants more of her skin, wants to be savoring this but that will keep for later, right now he just needs to feel her chest against his as he gulps down air and her body hot and tight around him as he thrusts into her over and over. He just barely holds on until she comes first. 

When he goes still, he buries his face against her neck. Lydia's fingers are running through his hair and he sighs. "I missed you," he admits against her skin.

"I missed you too."

He manages to straighten up, brushing a lock of her hair back gently. "Did I hurt you?" He's a possessive bastard on a good day, and they've been apart for months. Tonight with the adrenaline from battle and post-Drift lunacy, he's not entirely in control of himself. She hadn't said to stop, though.

"No, although I'm sure I'll be sore as hell tomorrow," she grins. He lets her down carefully and kisses her for a minute before letting go. He bends down to unlace his boots and Lydia walks to the bunk, removing her remaining clothes while he watches appreciatively. As soon as he's naked he chases after her, crawling along her body until he's hovering over her. Lydia's fingers tangle in his dog tags and she pulls him down into a kiss. His hands wander over her skin, teasing her breast with his thumb while he licks and nibbles at her neck and down to bite her shoulder. 

Her legs wrap around him, her hips moving impatiently. He smirks against her collarbone. "That's my horny girl. Still revved up?"

"You know I am," she grumbles. 

"Gonna take me a few minutes longer to recover, baby," he teases.

"Or you could do something with your mouth other than talking," she retorts, pushing his head down. 

"Bossy," he comments, shifting onto the floor to kneel before her and pull her knees over his shoulders.

"Yeah, like I didn't feel your cock twitch when I - oh _fuck_." She grabs his head as he covers her with his mouth, no hesitation, and begins to swirl his tongue over her clit slowly. He takes his time, gathering her taste in his mouth, knowing the teasing will drive her crazy right now. He has to pin her hips down against the bed as she squirms and he hums, imagining her doing that while he has his cock buried in her.

The humming makes her body go taut. He pulls away from her clit, provoking a whine that's replaced by a strangled cry as he pushes his tongue up into her pussy. He manages to look up at her as he fucks her with his tongue, taking in the sweat and the flush on her chest and the way she's gasping for air. She meets his eyes and the blush covers her cheeks as well and with that, he's completely hard again.

He goes back to suckling at her clit and his fingers push inside her, fucking her steadily with his fingers curled up just enough to make her jam her hand into her mouth to muffle the scream. It only takes a minute of the combination of his mouth and his fingers and she's coming all over his hand and his chin. 

"I guess you _really_ missed me."

She laughs, running her hand down his cheek. "Yeah, my own fingers are no substitute for a scruffy Australian between my thighs, apparently."

"Damn straight." The mental image of her touching herself while thinking of him goes straight to his cock. He kisses her stomach, moving up to suckle at her breasts until they settle back on the bed, him back on top of her. He tries to free himself from her arms to pick up his pants. "Lyds, wait, I need to grab another condom-"

She waves at the small table near the bed and he finds what he needs in the drawer. A stab of jealousy goes through him, wondering balefully what man might have been in her bed that she needed these for. They have made no promises of any kind and he has no right to feel this way, but it's there nonetheless. 

Lydia doesn't seem to be aware of his thoughts, because she takes the foil wrapper from him. "The ones I had in Sydney expired, so I grabbed some new ones from the quartermaster when I heard you were coming." 

He grins, enjoying her hands stroking him as she gets the condom on. "You knew I'd be barking at your door, huh?"

"Hoped," she says with the blush that makes his heart jump and he has to kiss her.

It's a good, long night. She's on the day shift here, so they have hours alone. They talk in between rounds, and eventually end up with Lydia sitting up against the wall, wearing his t-shirt which doesn't fit her at all right but looks amazing from his view. Herc has his head in her lap and her fingers are running through his hair. His worries, his stress, the adrenaline from the fight, have all finally faded from his body and he floats, content and ignoring that this is temporary.

It's always temporary, he tells himself. 

A few days later Lydia is the one watching him leave, the rain pouring down on Manila relentlessly as he climbs into the helicopter.


	5. Chapter 5

It goes on like that for a couple of years. Herc works, he worries, he and Lydia cross paths occasionally. He watches in horror as a kaiju attacks the Shatterdome in Vladivostok until Cherno Alpha and another Russian Jaeger finally kill the bastard. Then he waits, scanning lists of dead and injured and checking his messages frantically until he gets a text from her that merely says, "OK." (She's not, it turns out. She was hurt in the damage to part of the dome and had to have a ton of stitches put into her back to hold her body together after some jagged metal tried to cut her into pieces, but he doesn't learn that until much later, when he sees the long scar across her back in Lima.)

The war is going badly. Confidence in the Jaeger program starts to weaken even though they're the only things that have been able to stop a kaiju short of nukes. 

And one day in the Drift, Herc sees something he simply cannot unsee. Scott has crossed a line, one that Herc can't live with. It's bad enough that they lose alignment and nearly die. Lucky Seven crumbles into pieces and only just barely finishes the kill. 

He calls Lydia that night, despite the cost and the time difference. He has to talk to someone about this, and he can't turn to Pentecost yet. Lydia listens patiently and when he admits he doesn't feel he has a choice, she agrees. The next morning he reports his brother to their superiors. Scott is thrown out and Herc is in limbo without a partner for Striker Eureka, the newest Jaeger in the service, intended for the Hansens.

It turns out it still is, just not Scott. Chuck becomes his new copilot. To say that drifting with your child is awkward is a massive understatement. Chuck is a seething mass of anger at pretty much everything, but he channels it into killing kaiju and despite some shaky moments in their first couple of drifts, they hold it together. The neural handshake is stable, if not off the charts. And they can fight. If there's one thing Australians can always do well, it's fight. 

Chuck sees something of Herc's memories of Lydia early on and he braces himself for his son's anger. It would be natural for the kid to resent any woman in his father's life, considering Chuck still blames him for not saving Angela. (Some day, he hopes, Chuck will live long enough to have a child and he'll know what Herc knows. Angela would have given her life immediately and without question to save their son. She absolutely would have told him to go for their boy rather than her if given the chance. There was no choice involved.) The fact that his relationship with Lydia is more than just sex, even if they've carefully never articulated that, would only make it worse in his son's eyes. 

But Chuck doesn't say anything. The two of them turn not speaking about the drift into an Olympic sport, as there are plenty of things in his son's head Herc doesn't want to dwell on either.

They fight, they train, they spoil Chuck's dog rotten, he worries about Lydia, and the Jaeger program slowly collapses around them under the cowardice of the bureaucrats. Stacker Pentecost is a harder to beat than that, though. 

When the word comes that the Jaeger program is being closed down, he and his son are first in line to volunteer to keep going with Pentecost. Herc hasn't heard from Lydia in a couple of months. She was relocated to a research facility in LA the previous year and he doesn't have the new phone number. Hong Kong becomes the final shatterdome and Lydia's email stops working.

When he gets to Hong Kong, Herc scans the list of personnel when he gets a second to sit still. Her name isn't there. He can't blame her, or so he tells himself. She has a family to go back to, not to mention skills that can still earn a living even now. There's no reason for her to finish out her days with an aging soldier who is going to die soon in a most likely futile attempt to save the world.

But he misses her, in the few moments he has to think.

Then he gets hurt, the breach is closed and his son is dead. He's alone.

He ends up sitting in Chuck's room with a bottle, drinking until he passes out. The whole world is celebrating victory and nobody notices his absence, except Mako and Raleigh. They find him, drag him back to his own room. Raleigh shoves Herc into the shower while Mako disappears to take care of Max. Raleigh forces him to drink a glass of water and then lets him fall into his bunk with his grief and a horrific headache for company. 

When he drags himself back to functioning the next day, any alcohol has been removed from his room. After that he finds himself eating dinner with Mako and Raleigh every evening, whether he wants it or not. He tries, once, to tell them they don't need to but one slashing look from her shuts him up. 

About ten days after the breach is closed the phone rings in his office. It's Stacker's office in Herc's head still but now his because he was the only person who could even attempt to take command of the dome and the remnants of the Jaeger program. The office is a mess. He and Choi and Mako are trying to sort through the paperwork and handle the thousands of inquiries, tributes, recriminations and bribes pouring in from all over the world and keep the Jaeger tech from being misused or outright stolen from them. Raleigh is doing his best to help but he's not an administrator, however he and Mako haven't been separated for more than a few minutes for two weeks, so he's there too.

"Marshall, this is Security. We have a Dr. Lydia Owens asking to be let into the facility. She says you can vouch for her." 

Herc nearly drops the phone. His mouth goes dry and he can't speak.

"Sir? Should we hold her?" the guard is getting alarmed and Herc forces the words out.

"No, it's all right. Let her in." 

He puts the phone down. Becket looks at him and the young man's freakish intuition apparently fills in the blanks because he motions the other two to leave the room. 

Herc sits in his chair and hours seem to go by as he waits until he hears voices outside, and then there's a soft knock on the door. He gets up and walks around the desk on trembling legs but before he can either say anything or reach the door, it opens.

Lydia walks in, carrying a duffle and her backpack. Her face is pale and she has dark smudges under her eyes. There's more gray in her hair than he remembers, but otherwise she looks the same. She drops her things and gives him no choice when she hugs him. He has to put his arms around her and hold on to keep his balance.

Behind her, Raleigh closes the door to give them privacy.

"I'm so, so sorry, Herc. I'm so sorry about your son." Tears well up in his eyes and he holds her tighter. The grief is an omnipresent weight in his chest that sometimes he can ignore because he has things to deal with, but as soon as something reminds him it hits like a sucker punch. 

He doesn't know how long they stand there, clinging to each other. Eventually she loosens her grip and draws back enough to look at him. "I know he drove you crazy, but I know you loved him." She met Chuck in passing a few times, heard Herc's stories, and his rants, over the years.

"I'm proud of what he did," he tells her. It's the reply he gives to everyone who asks, because it's what the grieving father of a war hero is supposed to say.

"You're angry," she contradicts and he staggers a little. He hasn't seen her in nearly a year, how is it that she can walk in and take one look and see the truth everyone else has been conveniently ignoring? It's not fair and frustration wells up as she adds, "It's okay, I get it." 

"No you don't," he snarls, taking a step back abruptly. "You didn't lose your _son_. You have no idea what this is like." She nods, agreeing, which somehow only infuriates him more and he yells, "Why are you here, why now?" 

She holds up her hands. "I applied, Herc. I sent my name in as soon as they announced they were shutting the program down. I volunteered to come to Hong Kong but I was told they had enough people with my training and I wasn't needed." 

He slumps against the desk. He had never mentioned Lydia to Pentecost, except in general terms. The former Marshall would have had no reason to single her name out and bring her to Hong Kong, not when they only had enough money for so many people. He rubs his face with his hand. If he hadn't been so hell bent on keeping this private, Stacker might have known, might have chosen her over the others, but it's too late to wonder about that now.

And her being here wouldn't have changed anything. 

"I was in Toronto with my sister. Then I saw the news reports. I packed right away but it's not exactly easy to get a civilian flight from Toronto to Hong Kong. I got here as soon as I could." 

She flew halfway around the globe to get to him without calling first. She just knew he would need her and came. 

Herc reaches a hand toward her which she grasps. He pulls her into his arms again. "I'm sorry. Everything is... really fucked up right now." 

Lydia nods but before she can reply she yawns so hard he can hear her jaw click. "God, sorry. I've been awake for almost a day. I need someplace to crash for a while and once I've slept, we can talk, ok?" 

He nods and gets up. He goes to pick up her bag but she circumvents him with a pointed look at his injured shoulder. How she found out about that he has no idea. He holds on to her hand instead and leads her through the maze of hallways without thinking about his destination. Lydia hangs back when she realizes he's brought her to his room, the one across the hall from Chuck's. He could move into Pentecost's office, but the rooms belonging to the dead remain undisturbed.

"Herc, I didn't come here... I don't expect-" 

He shushes her with a finger against her lips. "I know, Lyds. And I'm not ready to..." There's nothing in him but grief and rage and what they had together feels like a memory from the distant past right now. But he wants her close anyway. "I'll feel better knowing where you are."

"All right." She sets her things down.

He does lean down and kiss her. It's gentle and more about comfort than anything else. "Get some sleep, ok? I'll check on you later."

He goes back to work and ignores the curious stares of the others, although nobody asks him anything specific. Eventually he can't avoid going back to his room for the night. Lydia is in his bed, so deeply asleep she doesn't wake when he comes in or when Max puts his paws up on the bed and whuffs at her. The dog curls up in his own bed on the floor and Herc is still debating going into the guest quarters or across the hall, although he knows sleeping in Chuck's room again is inviting pain to overwhelm him. He goes through his usual nightly routine and when he exits the bathroom, he gives in and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Lydia still doesn't stir, but he sits there in the dark, listening to her quiet breathing. The sound lulls him and he stretches out alongside her and his eyes close. He drifts off to sleep and is startled when the alarm goes off and he's slept for nearly six straight hours without waking once. It's the most sleep he's gotten since before the breach was closed. 

*~*~*~*~*

He's unsettled during the next day, both by her presence but more from watching her interact with the others. He forgets sometimes that she doesn't belong just to him. Lydia worked in every single Shatterdome at some point and she knows most of the staff. She knew the Weis and the Kaidanovskys and she recognizes many of the techs and workers still in Hong Kong. She and Tendo start babbling in tech speak almost immediately, but Herc is most surprised at the rapport between Lydia and Raleigh. The young man is easy to get along with in general but he and Lydia joke around in a familiar way that spikes Herc's possessive side. He knows her teasing about the Beckets was just that; she was friends with the brothers during her tenure in Anchorage but nothing more. 

He has even less justification for being jealous of her now, he knows. 

Mako is the only person Lydia does not know very well and the young woman has drawn formality around her like a cloak as she deals with her grief, allowing no one except Raleigh to get too close. But there is plenty of work to go around. Lydia's experience in the different locations and as an administrator are something Herc badly needs right now and he lets her into the discussions about what to do next and how to handle the PPDC and world leaders who are trying to make decisions about the Jaeger program's future without hesitation. She throws herself into the task and he only belatedly thinks to file the paperwork to make her a formal member of the Shatterdome again.

Within the first week after her return, Lydia is splitting duties with Tendo and making the man go home at a reasonable hour in the evening to be with his wife and his son. Herc notices that Mako and Raleigh are disappearing in the evenings as well, doing whatever it is they are filling their time with. Herc absolutely does not want to know what it is, but he knows they have been freed of having to keep an eye on him all the time. He resents it, and he's grateful, and guilty for taking up so much of their time and energy. He swallows that down, along with everything else. 

Lydia is sharing his quarters and the tiny bed, but regardless what everyone is probably assuming, they're not having sex. The first night they are both going to bed at the same time, he tenses up until Lydia emerges from the bathroom in a faded t-shirt and loose cotton shorts. It's completely non-sexual and he is able to relax again as she fits herself into the bed and they talk quietly for a little while before she falls asleep.

It's not like he's forgotten how they used to set the sheets on fire. The second morning she's in Hong Kong he wakes up to her coming out of the bathroom, drying her wet hair with a towel. He remembers the way her hair would feel around his fingers. He thinks for a moment about how easy it would be to strip off the t-shirt she is wearing, because she would be naked underneath it.

Tripping on the heels of that thought is recrimination. What is he doing, lusting after this woman when _his son is dead_?

He flinches, and any desire he was feeling fades instantly.

It goes on like that for weeks. He enjoys her physical presence but he doesn't react beyond that, and she doesn't question him or push the issue. He can't help but touch her, snuggled in the small bunk together, but he confines it to playing with the curls of her hair when he can't get his brain to shut up. Lydia rubs his back to help him sleep. Aside from the kiss upon her return, nothing else happens.

He sleeps more with her there, but there's a downside. Nightmares become his constant companions and he wakes up, stinking of sweat and nauseous, clinging to Lydia and trying not to cry while she holds him. He hates that she's seeing him like this, and he knows she's the only person in the world he could stand to be around him right now. 

The grief doesn't subside during the days. Sometimes they're so busy he can forget for a little while, but those are exceptions. Most of the time he feels like he can barely breathe, and his frustration overflows onto the others. Raleigh comes in for the bulk of his abuse, because Herc can't bring himself to inflict this on Mako after what she has lost. Trying not to unleash it on Lydia leaves the young man in the line of fire. For his part, Raleigh doesn't react beyond occasionally giving Herc a look of profound sympathy that makes him even more angry. 

After one particularly slow and frustrating day Herc is spoiling for a fight, which just makes him miss his son even more. On days like this, they would train, a euphemism for beating the shit out of each other in the Kwoon. Now there's no one left to fight. Raleigh would kick his ass in about five seconds even if Herc's shoulder was up to it. He's managed to piss off everyone around him. He was even rude to Mako, provoking Raleigh to step in and pull her away with a warning look at Herc.

He eats in the office, wanting to avoid any more contact with other people. The silence doesn't help. He just broods for a couple hours before remembering Max and he goes back to his quarters in search of the dog. He gets there and finds Max sleeping with his head on Lydia's leg while she reads something. 

Her expression is wary. He snapped at her earlier in the day and the guilt just makes him feel more reckless. "I need to feed him."

"I fed him when I got back," Lydia answers calmly.

He runs a hand over his face. "Look, I can take care of the fucking dog. You don't have to coddle me." 

"I'm not," she says coolly. "It was his dinner time, so I fed him." 

"Great," he mutters. "So even the fucking dog's feelings matter more than mine?" It's unfair of him to say that. He knows it, in some small part of his mind that is watching this unfold and screaming at him to shut the fuck up. 

Lydia glares, getting up after carefully moving Max's head. "If I hadn't fed him, you'd be pissed at me that I let him go hungry waiting for you." 

"I would not," he lies. 

She rolls her eyes, which he hates. It's one of his least favorite things about her. "I'm not going to fight with you, Herc. Not when you're like this."

"I've always been like this, sweetheart. You just ignored it when it was doing something for you."

Lydia freezes and his stomach drops. That was over the line, even in his current state. It's too late to take it back, even as the hurt on her face makes his anger evaporate into guilt. She came here to be with him, she's been at his side every day for weeks enduring his moods and his nightmares never asking him for a single fucking thing. This is how he repays her?

"Lyds," he starts, taking a step toward her, but she holds up a hand.

"I can't... it's not going to help, okay? Trying to make everyone around you hurt as much as you do right now? It's not going to bring him back, and it's not going to make you feel any better." She shakes her head and brushes past him and leaves the room. 

Max whines at her departure. Herc sinks down onto the bed, his head in his hands. As usual, she's right. It hurts so goddamn much, he's bleeding that pain out onto everyone because he can't handle it. He handled Angela's death because he had Chuck to care for. He handled losing friends and comrades during the war. He handled Scott's departure. He can't handle this. 

He stares at Lydia's duffle bag, which is still lying on the floor. Her belongings are in the second dresser in the room, but there was no handy place to store the duffle. 

Will she leave him now?

He goes cold at the thought. 

He wouldn't blame her. Really wouldn't, this time, not like the resentment he'd smothered when she hadn't come to Hong Kong. No one could put up with this shit indefinitely. He's got nothing to give her. The world is going on. She should be out there, living a life, not trapped here in the ruins with him. 

But the thought of getting into the bed tonight alone pushes the air out of his lungs. 

He can't do it. He's let her go too many times. He's given up every fucking thing in his life, including his only child. 

He gets up and hurries out into the hallway, trying to think of where she might have gone. People stare at him as he tears down the corridors. Later he'll realize what he must look like, his eyes wild and his face pale, but in the moment he's possessed with desperation to find her before she disappears again. 

His feet find their way to the LOCCENT and he stops on the threshold when he sees her sitting in Tendo's chair near the front of the room. The room is half in darkness without any Jaegers present in the dome to monitor. 

She turns when she hears him come in. He tries to say something, explain himself, apologize, but he's awful at this, he always has been, and nothing comes out.

There are tear stains on her face, and he can't bear that he made her cry. He crosses the room and pulls her into his arms. He says the only thing he can think of, what he's wanted to say since Sydney. "Don't go," he mumbles against her hair. "Please, Lyds, just don't go."

"I won't," she promises, sliding her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers rub gently against the back of his neck.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

"I know."

He presses a kiss against her temple and loosens his hold enough to look down at her face.   
"I had no right to talk to you like that. It won't happen again." He'll get angry again, of course. But he will never take it out on her like that. 

She cradles his cheek with her hand, looking up at him. He's not sure what she's thinking, but she nods once. "Okay." 

He leans down and kisses her. Relief overwhelms any guilt for a minute and he sinks into the kiss. She tastes the same and her mouth fits against his just as perfectly as he remembers. He loses himself for a little while, standing there kissing her, his hands pressed against her back, until a cough interrupts them. 

It's Tendo, who appears to be fighting back a grin. "Everything okay, guys?"

"It's late," Lydia tells him, leaning against Herc nonchalantly. "What are you doing here?"

Tendo gestures to the desk. "Had some stuff I didn't get to before I left for dinner and the kiddo is asleep."

"We'll get out of your way," Herc mumbles, feeling weirdly embarrassed. He leads Lydia out of the room, his fingers intertwined with hers while she calls back to Tendo not to stay too late. When her attention returns to him, he lifts her hand to his lips.

*~*~*~*~*

The PPDC convenes hearings. The survivors of the Jaeger program are going to tell the story of what happened at the breach to the world, though a live feed, before any final decisions are made about the program's future. Herc doesn't object when lawyers are called in to help them prepare, even though the hearing is not a trial. The PPDC, the UN and most of the nations of the Rim have called for or passed laws protecting the Jaeger program and its employees from any kind of legal action. Still, it seems wise to have guidance.

Tendo and Lydia work hard on the statement Herc will read to close his own testimony, and Tendo conjures up a tailor and marches Herc into his office to be fitted for a new suit. Mako overrules Herc's objections and points out that Pentecost was a firm believer in the power of impressions. He is the Marshall now, she says calmly. He needs to look the part. Herc sees Stacker in the young lady, the steely determination that nobody could overcome, so he gives in. 

The hearing is held in Hong Kong, which is a relief. They do not have to travel somewhere and the media circus is kept at bay by the Shatterdome security perimeter. The night before the hearing, Herc shoos everyone out of the office early, knowing that sitting there all evening worrying will help no one. 

He and Lydia take Max on a long walk, ending up on the roof of the dome. They sit down, looking at the lights of the city reflecting off the low clouds and she asks him, "Do you really think the war is not over yet? Or is that just about getting the program reinstated?"

The end of his prepared statement will stress the possibility of the kaiju returning, and the fact that humanity cannot be caught unprepared ever again. "It's never over. Not really. These beings that created the kaiju, what they are capable of... we'll never be sure they're gone. My only real hope is that they won't return in our lifetime." She sighs, leaning her head on his shoulder and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You've been working your ass off for the last couple of weeks." He swallows and forces himself to say it. "I'm glad you're here." 

 

*~*~*~*~*

When the announcement is read, Lydia turns to him and observes, "I'm going to be really disappointed if the history books don't describe this as, 'Thus was the Jaeger program reborn'."

He smiles and hugs her, shakes hands with Tendo and Raleigh and smiles at Mako as they celebrate. The Hong Kong Shatterdome will remain open, the Mark 6 Jaeger that currently exists only on paper will be built here, to defend the Earth against a possible reappearance of the kaiju. Most of the dome will shift over to research into other applications of the Jaeger tech. 

Herc will serve as the Marshall because the Jaeger program has always been led by one. He thinks Stacker would have wanted this and honoring his old friend's memory is part of what has kept him going the last couple of months.

There's a party, of course, and various forms of alcohol that are mostly not legal and all highly intoxicating. Herc and Tendo watch Geiszler and Gottlieb argue while drunk, which is far more hilarious than watching them do it sober, until Gottlieb's improbably gorgeous wife drags him away. 

Herc slips out early himself, aware that his new position places a distance between him and these people that he needs to respect. Before leaving, he exercises his authority and gives everyone the next day off.

"You just didn't want to have to answer phone calls with a hangover," Lydia accuses as they walk back to his room, both of them weaving a little from Tendo's special punch recipe. 

"No comment."

He takes Max for a walk and goes to bed. Lydia is doing something with her computer and he falls asleep before she joins him, but when morning comes he wakes up spooned against her back. 

He's half-asleep still, but his arm tightens around her middle and he presses his morning hard-on against her ass. Lydia makes a muffled noise, shifting against him and he sighs. He remembers one night in his quarters back in Sydney, the two of them going at it in his cramped shower stall. He'd pressed her face-first against the wall and pinned her hands flat to the tile while he rubbed his erection against the cleft of her ass. She liked being touched there, so the contact was getting them both aroused. The soap had made it easier for him to move and Lydia had been pushing her hips back against him and whimpering while he got himself off and came all over her legs. Then he had reached down and fingered her until she came too.

The memory is vivid and coupled with her smell and her warmth filling his senses, he gets more and more aroused until he holds her in place, pushing his dick against her ass. Lydia moans and rolls her hips and he comes hard in his boxers. 

Lydia has gone completely still and his muddled brain takes a long while to process what he's just done. He opens his eyes to find her craning her neck to stare at him and he realizes that after weeks of sharing a bed without any kind of intimacy between them, he just used her without even checking with her if it was okay. Horrified, he jumps out of the bed. "Lyds, oh Christ, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Wait." She grabs his arm. "It's okay, I was just surprised." 

"I shouldn't have done that, not without asking you. I didn't think."

"Maybe that's a good thing." That stops him, because she's probably right. "I didn't tell you to stop. It's just the first time you've, you know, followed through like that."

He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "That's the first time I've woken up with morning wood in a while."

"You've done it a few times, actually," she corrects gently. "But you would ignore it, or not wake up right away. I didn't want to bring it up until you did."

"Guess I was ready today," he mumbles, tugging at his uncomfortably wet shorts and she laughs. "So, what now?"

"That's up to you." 

He stares at her for a moment and then cups her face with one hand and kisses her, deep and slow. Lydia leans into him, her hands against his chest. 

When the kiss ends, he sighs. "I still need more time, baby. This isn't going to be easy." He hasn't woken up and been magically cured of grief and guilt. They'll be a part of him from now on. 

She nods. "I'm not leaving, not again. Unless you want me to go." 

"I don't." He can't promise her that day will never come, but he can't forsee it arriving any time soon. And he's selfish enough to take what she's offering. "I want you with me." 

She kisses him, this time, then waves him to the bathroom. "Go clean yourself up already." 

"What about you?" When she looks uncertain he smirks at her. "I remember being pretty good with my hands, according to your assessment. I can make what I did up to you, if you want." 

"You don't have to. This isn't a contest," she says, but she's leaning toward him even as she speaks. 

"No, but a gentleman doesn't get himself off and leave his lady hanging like that," he tells her, taking her hand and tugging her closer.

Lydia shakes her head. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a fucking lady?"

But she lets him pull her into the bathroom. "Tell me now if you want me to stop," he warns, closing the door and shucking his soiled boxers onto the floor. 

She presses her lips together tightly and he chuckles, pushing her shorts and her underwear down her legs. His hand slides up the inside of her thighs and Lydia leans back against the sink, spreading her legs a bit to give him more room. His fingers stroke lightly at first, coaxing her open until she's gripping the edges of the sink and rocking into his touch. "Fuck, I've missed you, Lyds." He's forgotten how amazing it is to watch her come apart for him. 

She kisses him frantically and it only takes another minute before she shudders and goes limp against his chest. 

After a little while they clean themselves up and crawl back into bed and nap for a while, as there is nowhere to go that morning. But eventually Max starts whining at the door and it's time to get up. 

This will be his future, he realizes. He'll try to protect the Jaeger program, he'll worry about his friends, he'll grieve his family and lost comrades, and at the end of the day, Lydia will be there.


End file.
